Several days passed, and it was now the middle of the week. Nothing had been seen of Henry since the Friday evening previous, when the referee case was decided, and Jessie began to feel uneasy about his absence. It was expected that he would come over on Saturday afternoon, and help build the “Temple of Peace.” It was now too late to do this, a warm rain and thaw having carried off most of the snow. On Wednesday afternoon Ronald and Otis were going in search of the truant, that being one of the regular half-holidays of the week in all the schools; but before they were ready to start, Henry made his appearance.
“Well, you’re a pretty fellow!” cried Ronald, as soon as Henry hove in sight. “So you’ve come over to help me build that snow temple, now the snow has all gone.”
“Can’t we scrape up enough in the garden to do it now?—let’s go and see,” replied Henry.
The boys went to the rear of the house, and found some depth of snow yet remaining under the shadow of the buildings and fences. But it was too hard and icy to answer their purpose, even had there been enough of it. Henry seemed to be quite disappointed, and exclaimed, with considerable warmth:—
“It’s too bad! But there, I knew it would be just so. I could have come over Saturday afternoon just as well as not, but Mrs. Allen wouldn’t let me. She never lets me go anywhere, when I want to.”
“Never mind,” said Ronald, “it’s likely we shall have plenty of snow yet, and we’ll build the temple when it does come.”
“I don’t know about that,” replied Henry, shaking his head. “Besides, I wanted to build the temple right away—it spoils all the fun, waiting so long. I wish I had come over here Saturday afternoon, in spite of her.”
“How did you happen to get away this afternoon?” inquired Otis.
“I asked Mr. Allen to let me come, this morning, and he said I might. She tried to keep me at home, as it was; but I got the start of her, this time. Mr. Allen is a real good man—I like him first rate; but I can’t bear his wife—she’s just as cross as she can be to me.”
Henry remained with his friends most of the afternoon, and spoke rather freely of his mistress, in the presence of other members of the family. Jessie was much pained by these remarks, and before her brother returned home, she had a private interview with him, and cautioned him against speaking so disrespectfully of Mrs. Allen. After a few moments’ conference, however, she was more inclined to pity than to censure the boy. The resentful feeling he had manifested in the presence of others, melted into grief, as he opened his heart to his sister, and poured into her ear the story of his sorrows. The poor fellow was still the victim of homesickness, and not without good reasons, it seemed. He had found a father, in Mr. Allen, who treated him with parental kindness and indulgence, but he wanted a mother. He was persuaded that Mrs. Allen had no affection for him. He thought she actually disliked him. She manifested no motherly interest in his welfare—she evidently felt little sympathy for him. She never praised, commended or encouraged him, but spoke to him only to give orders and find fault. She actually seemed to take pleasure in thwarting his plans and wishes, and interfering with his enjoyment.